


Future Has Its Eyes On You

by thebureauisclosed (insibbegerest)



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, No Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insibbegerest/pseuds/thebureauisclosed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton and Burr hate everything about the year 2015. Unfortunately, they have no idea how to get back to their time.<br/>(Short stories based on prompts I've received on tumblr... They don't necessarily have to be read in order)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I am sorry, Burr! Will you stop sulking and get out of the bathroom now?” Hamilton yelled, hoping Burr would hear him over the weird loud music their guests had been playing. One of those people brought a… small shiny circle with a hole in it and used it to ‘blast some fucking Macklemore, man’. Who this Macklemore person was and why anyone should want to blast him, Hamilton had no idea.

“I am not leaving until you get these people out of here!” Burr shouted.

“Why, what are you afraid of?”

“We appear God knows where and God knows when…”

“It’s the year 2015, according to this  _cellphone device._ Not only it allows you to communicate with others, it also shows the time and date and weather and…”

“…you get all these strangers here, they are dressed in strange clothes, use strange words and listen to absolutely horrendous music and yet it surprises you that I would rather not join your  _soirée_? And then there is the whole fact that the owner, Karen I suppose, can return any minute and  _shoot us_ for breaking into her estate!”

Hamilton sighed and kneeled down next to the bathroom door. Laughter and Macklemore could be heard from the living room, some of the visitors had already got drunk and were singing along. One had puked all over the sofa and then there was this young woman who had passed out in the kitchen. Hamilton wondered if everything about the 21st century was so wild.

-

_“Burr, get here! Now!”_

_“What is it this time, Hamilton? I admit, a box that can wash the dishes for you is no doubt a fascinating invention, but I believe we have more pressing matters at hand, such as figuring out where we are and how to get home!”_

_Approximately two hours ago, Burr had woken up in a house he had never seen before. Everything in there looked… odd. Awful furniture, metal boxes, various other strange decorations… What was this supposed to be?! When exploring the place, Burr had found an equally confused Hamilton in the kitchen._

_Hamilton yelled, “This is even more incredible than the dish-box and the food freezer, come here!”_

_Burr shook his head and walked into the room where Hamilton had been waiting for him. There was something in his hand and Hamilton was staring at it as though he was holding a miracle._

_“What is thing thing?” Burr approached him cautiously._

_“It speaks,” Hamilton said, his eyes wide. “Put it next to your ear.”_

_“Are you sure it isn’t dangerous, Hamilton?”_

_“Honestly? Right now, I am not sure about anything. It hasn’t attacked me yet, though, so let’s hope it is harmless.”_

_Burr did as he had been instructed and indeed – he could hear something that sounded like a feminine voice, but… how could that be?! He quickly returned the device back to Hamilton who, upon seeing Burr’s shocked face, chuckled._

_“Karen, are you there? Karen!!!” said the voice in the device._

_“…Karen is not here right now, I am afraid,” Hamilton said, holding_ the thing _between his thumb and index finger, as if he was worried it might bite him._

_“Then who are… oh! You are Karen’s new boyfriend, am I right?”_

_Hamilton had always been one for taking risks, “Yes, exactly.”_

_“Brilliant! So, is tonight still a thing? The party at Karen’s, I mean?”_

_“Of course,” Hamilton assured her, despite having no idea what this all was about._

_“Great, I’ll be there! Can I take some friends with me?”_

_“I don’t see why not.”_

_“Awesome! See you.”_

_After that, the talking stopped._

_-_

_The speaking machine, as Hamilton discovered, only ever talked for a while and then it stopped. When it wanted to tell you something, it started to sing and you had to touch it. Then it would say hello in a completely new voice and ask you questions. What purpose it held, Hamilton had no clue. It was both exciting and terrifying._

_This particular device, it seemed, would never run out of things to say. Every ten minutes, another voice would demand their attention and ask about Karen and her party. Each time, Hamilton reassured it that he was Karen’s boyfriend and everything would go according to the plans._

_“Can you please stop picking that thing up whenever it starts making noise?” Burr said. “All those voices, they… they must be real people, even if I don’t know how it is possible, but… they will come here, don’t you get that? They will come, find us and I don’t even want to think about how this will end. What kind of bizarre place is this?!”_

_“I am not sure, Burr, but I think this might be the future.”_

_“The future,” Burr repeated dully. The word had a bitter taste in his mouth._

_“How else would you explain that the dishes and the clothes wash themselves and that little boxes can talk, invite themselves to parties and search for a woman named Karen?” Hamilton asked._

_“I have no idea, Hamilton. No idea.”_

-

“I can’t tell them all to go away now, that would be rude,” Hamilton said.

Burr snorted, “Since when do you care if you are being rude or not?”

“Listen, it makes perfect sense that we try to socialize with these people! There is the possibility we might never be able to get back to our time and if that happens, we need to have acquiantances who will help us navigate our way through this new America.”

“We don’t know anything about them, they could be… criminals, or…”

“I really doubt that. Now calm down, Burr,” Hamilton said, amused.

Burr didn’t calm down, neither did he leave the relative safety of the bathroom. There wasn’t even enough space for him to stretch his legs, but at least there were no dancing drunkards from the future. He locked the door despite Hamilton’s laments, laid his head down on the toilet seat (What? It was the most comfortable he could get) and closed his eyes.

He would find a way to get back home. And kill Hamilton. But that would have to wait until tomorrow…


	2. Chapter 2

Aaron Burr was absolutely sure of one thing – Alexander Hamilton should  _never_ have discovered the Internet, especially this website called Wikipedia. Because of course, the arrogant bastard had to write his own name in the search bar even though Burr had strongly advised him against it. Hamilton hadn’t listened (of course not, this was _Hamilton_ we’re speaking about) and now Burr was the one who had to suffer.

“Oh, you’ve prepared lunch?” Hamilton sneered. “I am sure it’s  _to die for._ ”

“Hamilton.”

“Have you poisoned it? Or are you leaving that for the dinner?”                    

“I have no intention of poisoning you!”

“Right, I’d almost forget – you prefer shooting.”

“You provoked me!” Bur yelled. This must have been exactly why God hadn’t given man the gift of predicting future. So what, so he would eventually challenge Hamilton and defeat him in a duel – at least it would finally make the man shut up.

“Since when is that a reason to shoot someone?”

“You tell me that, Hamilton! You’re the one who challenges people to duels every other day!”

“That’s a lie!”

“No, it is not!”

“Ask anyone on the Internet, they all think  _you_ were the villain.” Of course, the damned Internet again!

Burr has had enough. With two bowls of soup in his hands (Hamilton can make his own lunch if he believes himself to be so  _perfect_ ), he strode to the guest room and slammed the door closed as loudly as possible.

Hamilton cried out, “Sulk all you want, you’re still a murderer and guess whose face is on money, huh? Not  _yours!”_

Burr  _hated_  this century with passion, but he had to admit there was at least one advantage to it – earphones. He picked them up from the table, turned some music on and closed his eyes. Hamilton would have to calm down sooner and later and until then? He could simply ignore him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Let me sum it up – we don’t know where we are, we don’t even properly know  _when_ we are and we have no means of returning back to our accommodation. And it is all your fault,” Hamilton said accusingly.

Burr threw his hands in the air. “I only wanted to take a walk, how was I supposed to know we would get lost?”

Standing in the middle of a busy street in New York, Burr and Hamilton were looking at each other with hostility. To them, most places in this new New York seemed more or less the same – high buildings, advertisements, lights, vehicles… and too many people.

“We should ask someone for help,” Hamilton suggested.

Burr understood that in this case  _we should_ stood for  _you should_ , and so he approached a young woman with a tiny dog peeping out from her purse. “Excuse me, madam?”

She sighed irritatedly. “Yes?”

He put on his widest, brightest smile. “Would you know how to get to Alyson Avenue from here?”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Subway, duh. You’ll be there in five.” And without a word of explanation, she walked away.

“Subway?” Hamilton frowned. “Some sort of an underground passage?”

“I think I saw something like that on our way here,” Burr said. “Follow me, I hope I’m not confusing it with something else.”

“Everything in this century is confusing; especially computers. I don’t think I will ever fully understand how those things work.”

They turned around. Burr was holding his head up high as though he knew exactly where they were going. He walked down the stairs leading underground, Hamilton right behind him.

“What is this noise?” Hamilton yelled, covering his ears.

Burr looked around, confused. Whatever was the cause of the loud noise seemed to be getting nearer and nearer and the air in the passage felt colder. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” Hamilton said.

A train had just arrived at the station, people getting in and off hurriedly.

“Are we… supposed to… enter this thing?” Burr said slowly.

“How do we know which way it goes?”

Burr pointed at the subway map, “I think it’s depicted here.”

“That… is an awful lot of lines.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

After spending several minutes trying to figure out the plan, Burr was the first to suggest they give up, walk up the stairs again and try to find their way without having to use this complicated devil’s invention. Hamilton, if grudgingly, agreed it would be for the best.

As they returned to the street to continue their journey, a car stopped next to them, honking. Hamilton jumped in surprise. “What the…”

The driver rolled his car window down and squinted at them. “Ah, shit. Sorry, I guess I’ve mistaken you for someone else. You,” he pointed at Burr, “look kinda like one of my colleagues, so I thought… yeah, nevermind, sorry for disturbing you.”

“Wait!” Hamilton cried out. “Could you please tell us how to get to Alyson Avenue? We got lost.”

The driver chuckled, “Tourists, huh? I should have guessed, your accent sounds a bit like some kind of fucked up Scottish.”

“Excuse me?”

“Eh, sorry, don’t mind me. Look, that avenue of yours is on my way home… I could give you a lift?”

Hamilton gave him his most charming smile, “We would like that. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Now get in.”

It took Burr and Hamilton a while to manage to open the door and get in (“What kind of strange door is this? Where is the handle?”). The driver looked amused, he didn’t comment on their clumsiness, though.

“Fasten your seatbelts.”

“What?” Burr frowned.

“Oh man, don’t you have cars in Scotland or what the hell?” The man sighed. “You know what, just… forget it. Let’s hope the cops don’t catch us.”

He started the car, the motor buzzed and the radio began to play a mellow tune. And then…

“What the fuck!” Hamilton yelled as they took the first sharp turn. His eyes widened, panic written all over his face.

“Hamilton, calm down,” Burr whispered.

“This… this vehicle is so fast!”

“Of course it is fast, it’s modern technology, after all.”

“God, we should have gone on foot, this is madness.”

“We would have gone on foot if it weren’t for the fact that neither of us knew the way.”

“Which is your fault.”

“Not everything is my fault, Alexander..”

“Well according to Wikipedia, my death  _is_ actually your fault, so pardon me if I’m being a bit irksome,” Hamilton hissed. He was as stiff as a ramrod and it seemed to Burr his face was getting paler.

“Hey guys,” the driver said loudly, “is it alright if I switch the channel and turn the radio up? Not that listening to your bickering about weird stuff isn’t fun, but…”

“It is alright,” Burr said.

-

“I think I might puke.”

“You’ve already said that, Hamilton. At least four times,” Burr said tiredly.

“Well I’m saying it again, because it’s only a matter of time!” Hamilton’s face had turned green, his fists clenched. “This is terrible. Why does it take so long for us to get there?”

“I don’t know.”

_“…them good girls, straight masterpieces,”_ sang the radio, almost too loud for them to hear each other speak. The driver had been gradually turning the volume up. Hamilton hated the music, he hated the driver, the car, Burr, everything.

In addition to that, the driver began to quietly sing along. “…livin’ it up in the city…”

Burr put fingers in his ears.

“…got kiss myself I’m so pretty…”

Hamilton looked like he was about to cry.

“I’M TOO HOT, HOT DAMN!” the driver yelled, wiggling to the rhythm of the song. “CALLED A POLICE AND A FIREMAN!”

Hamilton looked like he was about to die.

“MAKE A DRAGON WANNA RETIRE, MAN!”

Burr turned to Hamilton to exchange an experated look with him. However, Hamilton chose that exact moment to be sick all over Burr’s shoes.

-

“We’re here,” said the driver, pulling over. “And thanks for vomiting all over my fucking car, man.”

“And my shoes,” Burr added.

“You’re most welcome,” Hamilton muttered, opening the door and getting out of the car clumsily. “…wait, where is our house? This isn’t Alyson Avenue.”

The driver frowned, “Alyson? Shit, I thought you said  _Madison!_ Well, whatever, you’ll have to find the way home yourselves now, I’ll be too busy cleaning my fucking car. Au revoir, losers.”

With that, he left the two bewildered men in the middle of nowhere.


	4. Chapter 4

Hamilton was sitting on the sofa, pressing a piece of wet cloth to his black eye. His hair looked like a bird’s nest, there were scratches on his forehead and some dried blood under his nose. On top of that, he’d probably managed to break one of his fingers.

“And this, Hamilton,” said Burr, approaching him with a first-aid kit in his hands, “shows exactly why starting fights is stupid.”

“He said I looked like an idiot!”

“He did. And you could have paid him back in the same coin, but no, you had to punch him in the face.”

“He was the one who looked like an idiot after that.” Despite his pitiful state, Hamilton smirked.

Burr sighed. “Just… don’t ever do something so reckless again, understood?”

“And whyever not,  _sir_? What if I do, what are you going to do about it? Shoot me?”

Was this what Eliza had to endure every day? God, Burr had never before realized how much he admired the woman. He’d have to send her a letter or buy her a small gift if they ever returned back to their time, because  _no one_ should have to deal with Hamilton on his bad days. No one.


	5. Chapter 5

“Please tell me you’re not surfing the internet  _again_ , Hamilton.” Burr looked quite comical, storming into the house all breathless and carrying two full bags full of groceries.

“So what if I am?” Hamilton said, stuffing his mouth with popcorn. “It is a brilliant invention. Come here, you need to see this. Oh and did you get me the peanuts?”

Burr put the bags on the ground and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Yes, I got you the peanuts. I also got you the milk, the chocolate, the bananas, the…” Burr paused. “The everything you asked for.”

“Good. Now come here and watch.”

It was a… Burr wasn’t quite sure what it was, all he could see was a strangely dressed black man. He was singing and bouncing and dancing all over the place and his hair alone was a force to be reckoned with.

“What on Earth is that?”

Hamilton burst out laughing, “That’s Jefferson! God, he’d  _hate_  this so much…”

"Wait, what? Jefferson? As in... Thomas Jefferson?"

Hamilton grinned and nodded, "The one and only. And apparently, I am the main character of this... play! When America's in trouble, I save the day."

Burr's curiosity got the better of him and he sat down on the sofa next to Hamilton. "What about me?"

"Oh, you are there, too. You are like a mother, constantly telling everyone what they should or shouldn't do and how it's going to get them killed." Hamilton gave him a meaningful look.

"...is this Madison? Is everyone in the play black?"

"Mostly," Hamilton said with great enthusiasm. Then, his face fell. "I wish Laurens was here. He'd like this."

Burr didn't respond; he had already found out it was best not to lead conversations with Hamilton when something put the man in a foul mood. So instead of talking, he grabbed some of Hamilton's popcorn and listened to Jefferson's pleasant singing voice.


End file.
